


Bittersweet Aftertaste

by In_agony_and_ecstasy



Series: A/B/O Joe and Nicky Modern AU [2]
Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: (eventually) - Freeform, Alpha!Joe, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blow Jobs, Catholic Guilt, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff, Knotting, M/M, Nicky's POV this time, Porn With Plot, Rutting, Smut, fear of commitment, omega!nicky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-22 08:42:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30036045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/In_agony_and_ecstasy/pseuds/In_agony_and_ecstasy
Summary: This time, Nicky wants to help Joe through his rut. But his anxieties about marriage and bonding overshadow his desires to be the best mate he can be for Joe, who always so effortlessly cares for Nicky.
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Series: A/B/O Joe and Nicky Modern AU [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2209542
Comments: 5
Kudos: 101





	Bittersweet Aftertaste

**Author's Note:**

> Alright didn't know there was going to be sequels, but there are. Unfortunately, I left this one on a cliff-hanger though I know that's cruel. Have no fear, there will be a third part for sure, maybe even a fourth part.
> 
> Thank you for reading!

The moment I woke in Joe’s newly-canopied bed, the scent filled my nostrils. I inhaled the foreign – and at the same time, so very familiar – scent in deeply, trying to memorize it. Like most alpha scents, there was something earthy about it. Not exactly like wood, or stone, or a plant, but undeniably wild. That was Joe’s usual scent. Something earthy. Something fire red. Like the earth in places that weren’t quite the middle of the desert, but right on the cusp, where the sun blazed so bright everything in sight warped. This one was different from that, stronger, more overwhelming. It had a coziness to it. Like a lodge or cabin with a fireplace, and soup on the stove. It smelled like the warmth of the fire created in the dead of winter, and middle of the night, under the clearest, starry sky. I loved it immediately. 

We were right. Joe’s rut came even later this time. Last time it came two weeks late. This time, it came a month late. My own heat, even if we weren’t anticipating it to be early, would still be pretty close. I’d had a little time to warm up to the idea, and felt a lot more comfortable with his rut overlapping with my heat knowing what I knew now, which was that I could resist biting him the way my mom hadn’t been able to when she bonded with my dad. The only residual concern, I supposed, was that Joe wouldn’t be able to resist during his rut. 

But he was there for me. We agreed I’d be there for him. I trusted him. 

I stood up to get ready, quite resentfully, for work. It was still a Tuesday, and though Joe would get the rest of the week off for rut leave, I couldn’t take leave just to fuck him. We’d have to be bonded for that.

Once I’d showered, brushed my teeth, shaved, and dressed, I stepped out into the hallway. My senses were even more bombarded by the smell, which was almost tangible in the air. But there was also a repetitive pounding sound, as if a pillow was being hit over and over. 

In the living room, Joe had brought out a suspended punching bag, and was standing in front of it shirtless, drenched in sweat, and punching it with all his strength.

I _really_ wished I could stay home from work. 

He noticed me and swung around to face me, grinning. As he tore his gloves off, he said, “You’re finally up!”

It took me a second to realize that he had never woken up before me. I was the early riser, not him.

“How long have you been up?” I asked. 

“Since two,” he said, shrugging.

“And have you…been doing this the whole time?” I asked. 

“Mostly. It’s what I do to deal with the excess pent up energy when I’m in rut,” he said. 

I nodded, fascinated, though trying not to show it. Ruts were pretty much a mystery to me. I had no siblings, had lived with only my omega mother and beta grandmother growing up, and had gone to an all omega/female beta Catholic school as a kid. 

They taught us nothing. Everything I knew about it I had learned from outside sources. Sitcoms, porn, and friends. None of these were exceptionally helpful or accurate, even my friends, who mostly just thought it was funny how little I knew and amusing to not tell me as much as they could. 

Joe had filled me in some. He slept very little during his rut, about four hours a day. He had a ton of energy but no focus with which to direct that energy, other than, naturally, yearning for an omega and jerking off to douse some of that desire. Though, he explained to me, jerking off didn’t do as much as I might think – which was funny, because I had no thoughts as to how much it did or didn’t help – because without an omega to constrict around his knot it went down right away. Something that didn’t make any difference when he wasn’t in rut, but was almost entirely the point when he was. There were, apparently… _aids_ to this, which I had seen in his underwear drawer once. It looked like a beverage cozy. Much more innocuous than the knot plug I had at home to help me through heats before I had Joe. 

“You look so beautiful when you blush,” he said, pulling me out of my trance. He’d stepped closer to me, and wrapped his arms around my waist. This close his scent made me delirious. I leaned in close to his neck, almost instinctually, and breathed in his scent. I wanted it all over me. I was glad I was already dressed for work. The scent would stick to me all day and everyone I came within five feet of would know I had an Alpha in rut waiting for me at home. This thought made me shiver. 

“You like it?” he asked, as if he was worried I’d say no.

“I love it,” I said. 

“Good,” he breathed, like he was relieved. Then he kissed me, already with as much passion as he had in him, and pressed me against the wall. His fingers threaded through my hair, and along my waist, and around to grip on to my ass. Within seconds, it seemed, he was fully hard and pressed against my thigh, staining my shirt faintly with his chest sweat, and therefore, his scent, equally interested in people knowing I was his omega. I sighed into the kissing, savoring it, and Joe whined. He opened his mouth like he was about to ask me something but –

There was a knock at the door. 

Joe swung around and growled. The hairs on my arms stood up as he stepped in front of me. I’d never heard him growl before. It shouldn’t turn me on this much. 

Especially because, it appeared he was protecting me from a mail delivery. 

“Want me to answer it?” I asked, gently. 

He shook his head. “She’s an alpha.”

“You can smell that through the door?” I asked. 

Joe nodded. 

“Well, I doubt she’s here to stake her claim,” I said, and as if to prove my point, a flyer of some sort slid out from under the front door and across the hardwood. Footsteps faded away on the other side. 

Joe’s shoulders slumped, and he scrubbed his hands down his face. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t even mean to, I just caught the scent and –”

I stepped back into his embrace and said, “It’s not your fault.”

He shook his head. “It’s embarrassing. I swear, I would never –”

“I know you’re not gonna get in a territorial dispute, Joe,” I said, with a hint of amusement in my voice I hoped he couldn’t hear. That was one of the only things I actually knew about ruts – or really, alphas in general – because my dad apparently got into fights a lot when he was young. I only saw him once or twice a year as a kid, and when I got old enough to date, he warned me against dating the type of alpha who got into fights with other alphas. He said, “They’ll tell you they can’t help it. That it’s just their nature. Don’t believe any one of ‘em. I know. I was that alpha once, and then I grew up.” 

Probably some of the only useful parenting he ever did. 

“It’s just because you’re here,” Joe said, still staring at the front door. He was plugging his nose. “I’m not like that when I’m alone. But – it just happened. God, she probably heard my growl. That’s so embarrassing.” 

“It’s okay Joe,” I said, again, trying to be a source of comfort for him the way he was for me during my last heat. 

Whenever I went into heat, I did all kinds of things I wouldn’t normally do. Part of the reason I was afraid to spend a heat with him had nothing to do with my anxieties over bonding. I was just worried about what he’d think of me once he saw me in that state. 

On the third day of my heat, Joe had to go into work. Deliriously, I had begged him not to leave me, and he had almost called in sick. Instead, he knotted me once that morning, let me fall asleep with him still in me, waited for his knot to go down, and then went into work late. When I woke up, the pain was as excruciating as it ever was – a feeling I would describe as my cervix getting impaled by an icepick over and over – only this time it was worse, because I knew differently then. I knew what it was like to have an alpha help me through it. 

By the time he got home, I was torn between screaming at him and begging him to knot me again. I was both furious and relieved to see him. And even as I was cursing him for leaving me, he said nothing, got undressed, and eased himself into me. Once in, I was as desperate and hungry as I had been for the last two days, and when he knotted me, I cried while apologizing to him for everything I said. Repeatedly, he told me I didn’t have to be sorry, that it wasn’t my fault, and that he knew I didn’t mean it. Then he gave me vanilla pudding, which he’d run out to buy on his lunch break, and thought might be the perfect balance of warm and cold, bland and sweet, for my appetite during heat. It was, and I ate the entire four-pack in one sitting, still on his knot, with my finger, since he couldn’t get up to get me a spoon. He promised to buy me more when he went to work again. 

The following day, we did the same thing – minus me getting angry at him. I managed to resist, just as I managed to resist biting him. On Wednesday, when my fever finally broke for good, and the arousal dulled, and the pain subsided, it was much easier to let him go to work and by the time he returned, my heat was over. I told him the truth – that I had no idea how I used to get through heats without him, and that I loved him, and never wanted to spend another heat alone, and was so, so, eternally grateful that his rut and my heat were synching up so soon in our relationship. 

“Just imagine,” he said, “In a few months, we’ll be taking the same weeks off every year together. I won’t ever have to leave you during your heat again.”

That day had been on my mind ever since. We both spoke as if we intended to be together forever, but we weren’t even engaged. And what resonated with me even more was that…it was clear Joe never intended to bond with me. If he did, we wouldn’t need to be synched up to take the same weeks off. It was illegal to make someone work during their mate’s heat or rut, since that person’s biology at that point pretty much depended on their mate’s assistance, or else the symptoms were much more severe – especially for an omega – and being with someone else other than your mate during a heat or rut was virtually impossible, because anyone else’s scent became intolerable. 

Which was why we _had_ to be synched, in Joe’s mind. If we weren’t synched, we’d never be permitted to take time off on behalf of the other’s need. 

“Nicky?” Joe said, and I shook my head to clear it. 

“Sorry what?” I asked, and looked up, only to realize he’d moved from where I last noticed him standing. He was in the hall behind me now, and I spun around to face him.

“Could you please grab that pamphlet and put it in a Ziploc bag and take it out with you when you go to work?” he said, pointing at the pamphlet left by that alpha woman earlier. 

“Oh,” I said, and then walked up to it. 

“The smell is burning my nose,” Joe said, and retreated into the bathroom. 

I sniffed the pamphlet. There was another, different, earthy smell on it, like wet clay and rain. Pleasant, but not my type, unsurprisingly. I’d never found a female alpha’s scent appealing before. The only scents I’d ever liked were attached to men – alpha or not. Only Joe knew this about me. I was learning to not be ashamed about it. 

I did as Joe said, stepping into the kitchen and slipping the pamphlet into a Ziploc bag, which I immediately sealed. I was amazed he could smell this faint scent from the other side of the room. The woman had scarcely touched it, yet it was burning his nose. Something else to store away with everything else I’d learned about ruts: Strong sense of smell.

I wondered then how I could go the extra mile. Joe was always going above and beyond for me and others around him. But I truly felt like I owed him for the pudding. Never before had I felt full during a heat, and it was the first time I’d lost less than ten pounds during one. Normally, my only goal was to avoid nausea and vomiting. But the pudding actually satisfied a craving I never knew I had. 

I decided to wipe down the floor everywhere the pamphlet had touched first with a Lysol wipe. Something told me this was silly, and wouldn’t accomplish anything, but at least I was trying. Then I washed my hands at his kitchen sink. 

I put the Ziploc bag in my brief case and set my brief case by the front door, far away from the bedroom where I’d heard Joe’s footsteps head to. I headed there now too.

He was on the bed, looking at his phone with one hand, gripping his cock with the other. His head perked up the moment I walked in and he pulled the covers over himself, about to, presumably, apologize by the look on his face. 

“It’s okay,” I said, “It’s nothing I haven’t seen before.”

Which was true, technically. Joe often touched himself when he went down on me, and I often watched as he did. But I’d never walked in on him. It felt like I wasn’t supposed to be there, and I was a little embarrassed, but fighting the feeling because he’d seen me at my most unraveled, my most inhibited, and vulnerable, and had not batted an eye. 

I strode up next to the bed and sat down on the edge, before pulling the covers back off him. I tried to control my expression. He didn’t look the way he normally looked. His skin was reddened, and the veins were more prominent, and his balls looked swollen, which worried me. 

Joe looked sheepish. “It won’t be as bad once I –”

“Are you in pain?” 

He nodded. “Some. Nothing like a heat. It’s like…really, really bad blue balls.”

“Can I make it better?” I asked now, trying to make my voice sultry rather than concerned. If I was honest, I was not as turned on as I had been in the living room. This was new to me. I was worried I’d screw it up. But Joe didn’t seem to notice. 

His eyes glazed over some. “Well – I was gonna ask earlier. But there’s no time to knot you before work –”

“I could blow you,” I said, now trailing my fingers along his length. His skin was hot to the touch. 

He exhaled deeply, clearly torn. “That won’t help as much but – God, it would be nice.”

“It won’t?” I asked. 

He shook his head. “I won’t uh, _release_ as much if I’m not knotting you. So I’ll still be pent up but –”

His eyes wandered over me, and his nostrils flared some. 

He’d still be pent up but that didn’t mean he didn’t want it. 

I smiled faintly at him and then maneuvered myself to be lying between his legs, hitched up on my elbows. I stroked him a few times, just to feel how warm and heavy he felt in my hand. He flinched, and I glanced up at him. 

“I should warn you,” he said, “It’s – _so_ sensitive when –”

But he cut himself off to moan, because I’d slid the tip between my lips and started laving my tongue against the underside. His body stiffened, and his fingers slid into my hair, tightening in it. Not pulling or pushing, just holding on. I eased more of him into my mouth. He tasted just like he smelled, and he was so warm, and velvety on my tongue. I really wanted to make it last though I knew the point was to get it over with quickly. Reluctantly, I sped up on him a little bit, easing down just far enough for his subtly swelling knot to begin pressing against my lips. 

I gripped onto the base with my hand, tightening around his knot and instantly it swelled even more against my palm. It wasn’t physically possible to fit it in my mouth without risking a broken jaw, but regardless, sometimes I fantasized I could. I wanted to offer him all the pleasure in the world. I wanted to be the living embodiment of his deepest fantasies. 

As if his body responded to my sheer will alone, he sputtered that he was going to come, and warned me there’d be more than usual. I sped up on him, making sure the head of his cock slid directly along my tongue, and tightened my hand on his knot. Doing this seemed to flip a switch, and his stomach flexed, his head threw back, and he was moaning my name, telling me he loved me, and, as he continued to spill and spill, told me he’d do anything to marry me. 

At first, I was preoccupied with how quickly he’d come. It had been less than five minutes, and I had no gift for this. Sure, I always got the job done but it wasn’t as if I was a pro. Usually, I was relieved when it was over, not because I wanted it to end but because I was worried I wouldn’t be able to finish him. No kidding, he was sensitive, then. 

But then I processed everything he said.

“What?” I asked then, and he blinked wearily at me as if only just waking up. 

“Hmm?” he asked, and affectionately stroked my cheek. “God, that felt amazing, my love. Sorry if it – was too much.”

“It wasn’t too much,” I said, though I did need to chug a bottle of water ASAP. “What did you say?”

His cheeks reddened, and he scratched the back of his head before pull his boxers over his still hard cock. His knot had indeed gone down immediately without being inside me. 

“Sorry,” he said, “I get all – sentimental in rut. And you were doing so amazing and I wasn’t in my right mind. I didn’t mean to – You know I would never actually, like, propose like that, right?”

He sat up so that he was leaning into me, and looking me in the eyes. 

“Right,” I said, though that hadn’t been my concern. “Of course.” 

“But I _do_ love you,” he said, and added under his breath, “And I can’t wait until you get home so that I can return the favor.”

A shudder ran down my spine, and I kissed him. “Me neither.”

I had to go to work then, while wanting more than I ever had before in my life, to just stay home. 

…

I was useless at work all morning, staring at my screen in a daze. Nile caught me more than once resting my head on my hand, staring off into nothingness. Finally, she poked me with the end of her pen and asked me what was on my mind. 

“You’re an alpha, right?” I asked, though it was not only obvious, but something I had known for ages.

She snorted. “Uh, yeah. Last I checked.”

I swiveled in my office chair to face her side of our shared cubicle. She leaned back in her own and crossed her legs. 

“When you’re in rut – sorry if this is too personal,” I blurted, immediately realizing how inappropriate it was to talk about this at work. She nodded her permission, and I continued, “Are you like…extra sentimental?”

She blinked at me. “What do you mean?”

“Well…I mean, I guess it doesn’t really work since you don’t have a mate,” I said, sighing. Nile was pretty outspoken about her asexuality and aromanticism, ever since coming out to us a few years ago when wanting to get advice on how to tell her Catholic parents she would never take an omega. All of us had given her our best advice, but none of us really knew what to do either. It wasn’t unheard of to not mate of course, but to not even want to – that was something else. Especially for Catholics like us, who were expected to perceive ruts and heats as a form of punishment to endure, only to be pardoned when intending to get pregnant. 

In the end, she’d told us it was enough that we supported her. We took that to mean her parents hadn’t taken the news well. Since then, I was pretty sure they’d come around enough to accept. Perhaps not understand, but accept. 

I met Nile’s gaze now, and she didn’t appear to love that she couldn’t help me out for this reason. 

“Sentimental how? Like, overly protective? Because, then yeah, definitely, that’s a thing.”

“Well, yeah, that,” I said, thinking about the alpha woman at Joe’s door this morning.

“Or do you mean more talking about bonding than usual?” she said, “Because if that’s the case you shouldn’t hold it against Joe. It’s an unavoidable intrusive thought, even when it’s not wanted.”

Her tone shifted at the end, and I realized she wasn’t just talking about Joe. 

“What about marriage?” I asked. 

She blinked. “Never had that urge before. Don’t think that’s…a rut thing, either.”

“What are you all talking about?” Booker’s voice carried over from the cubicle next to us. He rolled out into the hall so that we could both face him. His arms were crossed behind his head and he was looking at me expectantly, clearly having heard everything we said but nonetheless expecting to be invited in. 

“Does your wife ever get overly sentimental in rut?” I asked. 

Booker tilted his head back to think. “She…I don’t know. Whenever she’s in rut she insists on driving the kids to school, even though they normally take the bus. Does that answer your question?”

Nile snorted. “In what world does that answer his question?” 

“So she’s protective,” I said. “But not like…like before you had kids, before you were married, did she bring it up, uh, during rut?”

“What’s going on, Nicky? Did Joe propose?” he asked. 

I swallowed, and rubbed the back of my neck. “No. Not really. He brought marriage up, and then told me it was just because he was in rut.”

Nile and Booker’s eyes met, and I turned my head back and forth between them. “What?” 

“Nicky, alphas don’t…get, you know, like omegas do. They keep their heads, unless…unless there’s another alpha or their mate’s in danger or something – or else how could they provide for their omega in heat, you know?”

I blinked at her. “Not even when –”

I exhaled. My skin burned. I hated this. I wasn’t raised in an environment that permitted me to acknowledge these subjects. Every time I spoke about sex it was like I was up against the force of God’s judgement looking down on me. 

“When you’re fucking?” Booker supplied for me. 

“Yes,” I said, breathing again, relieved. 

“Oh, well I don’t know anything about that,” Nile said, clearly relieved she wouldn’t have to tell me something I don’t want to hear.

I looked at Booker, who was leaning forward and supporting his elbows on his knees, clasping his hands. 

“They might lose their heads a bit then, yeah,” Booker said, “Obviously, if they’re unbonded, there’s the urge to bite. But…that doesn’t mean they say things they don’t mean. It’s like being drunk, you know? They say you’re more honest when you’re drunk than sober because you’re inhibited and you don’t care about the repercussions. So if Joe said something while you two were fucking, and then took it back after…”

We were all silent for a moment. 

“So you think…do you think Joe’s going to propose?” I asked, very quietly. 

Again, they shared a glance. 

“Would that be a bad thing?” Nile asked gently. 

“No,” I said, and it was the truth. I wanted to marry Joe. We even brought it up during my last heat. He said it would be an honor, and I agreed. At the time, I hadn’t really contemplated the significance of that. I was in a haze, fuck-drunk and on his knot. 

And if he hadn’t said what he said about being able to take the same weeks off once we were synched, as if he never intended to bond me…the knowledge that he might be planning to propose would do nothing short of make me the happiest man in the world. 

But what if Joe wanted to bond with the person he married, and was giving that up to be with me? 

After all, most people bonded on their wedding night. Some cultures – like his own – had a whole separate _ceremony_ for a bonding, equally or even more significant than marriage. His parents were bonded and quite happily so. He probably grew up believing he would do the same. 

And if he had, there was nothing _wrong_ with that. I had nothing against bonding in _theory_. In _theory_ I thought it was beautiful, and profound, and something I wanted to offer to Joe more than anything.

But in _reality_ it terrified me. More. Than. Anything. 

And I could not let Joe settle. I would not let him give something up he’d always wanted. Even if it meant I couldn’t marry him.

“Would what be a bad thing?” 

All three of our heads shot up to face Andy, returning from her lunch break, leaning against one of the cubicle walls.

“Nicky thinks Joe’s going to propose,” Booker said for me. 

Andy’s eyebrows shot up, but then she nodded, like it made sense. “He hasn’t said anything to me, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he was.”

I glanced at Andy’s neck where her bonding bite was just barely exposed underneath her button-down shirt. Then I turned to look at Booker, who’s was higher up on his neck, and less pink than Andy’s, because he’d been married for years and Andy had only bonded with Quynh a year ago, though they’d been together ages before finally making the decision. 

“Do you guys like being bonded?” I asked, before I could stop myself. 

Again, Andy looked surprised first, but then her features softened. “Best decision of my life.” 

Booker nodded. “I never have to think about losing her.” 

“But before, were you sure you’d like it?” I asked. 

“Well, we waited as long as we did to _be_ sure,” Andy said, “So, yeah.” 

I thought of Andy’s soft-spoken beta mate, who occasionally came into the office to bring Andy’s lunch from home. I’d known her for years, and for equally as long, everyone in the office wondered why Andy and Quynh hadn’t progressed their relationship. When I became closer friends with Andy, she confessed she and Quynh weren’t interested in marriage, as they had been together since long before Alpha-beta marriages were legalized, and as a result, found the whole marriage thing to be pretentious bullshit. But that hadn’t explained why they didn’t bond, and now I knew. I wasn’t the only one afraid. 

I looked to Booker. 

“Oh, hell no,” he said, “But we were already married, I was already pregnant…it seemed like the responsible thing to do. I was only grateful for it after.”

I swallowed, nodding at him, yet unable to believe, that despite being uncertain, he could have just done it anyway. Least of all, because it seemed responsible to do so. Bonding, in my mind, was the furthest thing from responsible, regardless of the circumstances.

“I’m so glad I don’t have to think about this,” Nile said, shaking her head in disbelief. I envied her, because I, very much, had to be thinking about this.

“You know you don’t have to bond just because you get married,” Andy said. “Is that the problem? Parent pressure to bond too, or something?”

“The opposite,” I said, and everyone nodded without me needing to elaborate. Everyone knew _someone_ who regretted bonding. 

“Don’t worry about it, Nicky,” Booker said, now. “Joe loves you. That’s all you need to know.”

“There’s no way Joe would ask you to do something you don’t want to do,” Nile added. 

Andy nodded. “Think he’d do anything just to be with you.”

My throat felt tight. _Anything_ to marry me. 

“Thanks guys,” I said, doing my best to sound like I felt better.

On my lunch break, I remembered the pudding, and that he’d bought it on his lunchbreak for me so that he wouldn’t delay his return home. I headed to the nearest superstore, in hopes I would come across something that would comfort him the way the pudding had me. I ended up discovering scent-obscuring pads that alphas could slide under their doors, preventing as many smells from seeping into their apartment as possible. I bought one without hesitation, even though it cost significantly more than the pudding had. I just had to do something for him. I wanted, desperately, to be good enough.

…

The moment I returned to Joe’s apartment, I took a moment to unwrap the scent-obscurer I purchased and slide it under the door, before I shut it. The sound, or perhaps my scent, alerted Joe, and he padded out into the hall from the bedroom to greet me. He smiled brightly at me, and then quirked an eyebrow at the door. I blushed, and rubbed the back of my neck. 

“I thought it might help,” I said, and tapped my nose. He grinned and walked up to me, pulling me in by my waist, and momentarily lifting me off the ground. 

“God, thank you. I love you,” he said, and kissed me long and hard. 

He set me down, and I said, “I love you, too.”

Then he was kissing me again, with more urgency, and unbuttoning my shirt. It took me a second to catch up to him, but I followed his lead, untying my tie. By the time we reached the bedroom, I was naked, a trail of my clothes and his boxers left behind us. 

He eased me onto his bed, and then drew the canopy around us. 

“I’ve been waiting for this all day,” he breathed, scenting along my neck.

“Me too,” I said, truthfully, though my anticipation had become much closer to worry than desire since this morning. 

“I want to show you something,” he said, and then sat up off of me to reach through the canopy, yank open his nightstand drawer, and grab a plastic case shaped like a semi-circle. I furrowed my brows as he handed it to me. 

“What’s this?” I asked, looking at him, but snapping the case open. Inside, was a pair of retainers, matching, I could already tell, Joe’s teeth. 

“Protection,” he said, “Remember when I went to the dentist after your last heat? It was to get these made. If I wear them, it won’t matter even if I lose control. They’ll make sure my teeth don’t break the skin.”

My eyes widened as I looked at him. “Jesus, Joe. How much were they? These – I mean, I’ve heard –”

“Don’t worry about that,” he said, now, taking the case from me and pulling them out. He took a moment to snap each corresponding top and bottom retainer into his mouth and grinned at me. They were clear, so only visible from this close, and could just as easily be a substitute for actual braces. Buying ones like this though – impervious to the strongest bite into flesh, and used as a form of protection – were not covered by insurance and were _not_ cheap. 

All because of my fear of bonding.

I struggled to swallow. “You didn’t have to do that, Joe.” 

He shrugged. “I didn’t want to risk it. Ever.”

“You’re so thoughtful,” I said. So much more thoughtful than I was, even when I was trying so hard to be. He was just like this. So considerate of my needs, and without needing to be asked, or complaining, or feeling burdened. My stomach turned. 

“I don’t want you to worry,” he said now, stroking my cheekbone with his thumb. “Besides, now – as long as you’re okay with it – I can bite you.”

His voice deepened when he said that, and he took a second to look me up and down, lying beside him in the bed. He trailed one of his hands along the length of my chest, then my stomach, through my happy trail, and rested it on my thigh. He was so hard he throbbed. I shivered. 

He wanted to bite me because of his rut, I told myself. He was in rut, and the urge was overwhelming, and the action would relieve some of his symptoms the same way presenting did for me in heat. It was instinctual. Even Nile, someone who’d never had feelings for anyone in her life, and had no desire to whatsoever, thought about marking when she was in rut. 

When I was in heat, he was the perfect mate. He gave me everything I needed, and more I never thought to ask for. I would do the same for him. 

“I’m okay with it,” I said, smiling softly. 

He grinned, and then, looked quite sheepish. “Okay, I promised to return the favor and I will. But first – if it’s okay with you – I _really_ need to knot you.”

“How do you want me,” I asked, leaning in and kissing him tenderly. 

He licked his lips as he glanced over me again. “It’s going to last a lot longer than usual. So – whatever position you can stand to be in for a while.”

“How long?” I asked, suddenly more curious than anything else. His knot normally lasted anywhere from a half hour to forty five minutes. 

He winced. “Like…probably a couple of hours.”

I raised my eyebrows at him and blinked. 

“Sorry,” he rushed to say, “It’s just, I’m so pent up and this is what happens when –”

I cut him off with a kiss. “You don’t have to explain yourself to me.”

“We can turn the TV on after,” he said, and I snorted. This made him look relieved. 

“Okay,” I said, and lifted myself onto my knees to straddle him, but in reverse, with my back against his chest. This way, when it was over, I could adjust my legs so that I was sitting in his lap.

He braced me with one hand by placing it on my hip, and with the other, lined himself up with me. I sunk down on him slowly, and the both of us moaned. He felt so warm inside of me, stretching me more than usual too. 

Joe gripped on to both of my hips now, his legs trembling under me. His forehead rested against my back, and I could feel his deep breaths on my spine. 

“Ready?” I asked.

“God, yes,” he said. 

I rode him, gently and slowly. As I did, his hands roamed all over me, eventually one settling on my ass, the other slipping around between my legs to massage my clit. At his touch, I was instantly rendered helpless, whimpering and losing my pace. His ragged breath felt good, and his embrace felt so good, and his hand, especially, felt so fucking good the longer he expertly rotated the pads of his fingers on my clit. He cursed, and moaned my name, and told me he wanted to do this forever, and between broken moans, I told him the same. 

Much sooner than I would have liked, and much sooner than I would have needed to come, his whole body tightened up and trembled around me. 

“Fuck, fuck, I’m going to come, Nicky,” he uttered, against my back. “I’m – I’m going to use my teeth.” 

I shook off the nerves that came with that sentence, and kept pace. As I did, he kissed along my shoulder, and then nipped at the cusp of my neck, and then, when I finally sunk down and his knot caught, his teeth latched on to the soft flesh there. 

My vision went white. My whole body felt suspended. Out of nowhere, I came, and the sensation crashed through me and rippled outward to the very limits of my body. I might have screamed – felt the scream leave my throat – but heard nothing. 

Minutes later, everything came back to me. I could see and hear and feel normally again. I knew where I was. I remembered what just happened. My head whipped painfully as I attempted to see my shoulder where he bit me. 

“It’s bruised,” Joe reassured, quietly, “But it didn’t break the skin. No mark.”

I turned to look away from my shoulder, suddenly ashamed I’d so visibly displayed my fear that the retainers hadn’t worked. Joe stroked my sides, and then tightened his arms around me. He kissed the bruise his teeth had left. 

“That – was the best I’ve ever felt,” he said, still panting. 

I nodded. I had heard, that being marked felt incredible. Evolutionary response, of course, because it should be agonizing to have someone’s teeth sink into your skin and would be if it happened anywhere else on the body. But not when it was on the shoulder or neck. That triggered something else, and apparently, it was heaven. I’d never really believed people when they said it. At least, I never believed it was as good as they said. 

Then I realized that this wasn’t even the real thing. This was a diluted version of the real thing. To think anything could feel better – it was just impossible to imagine. Not to mention, Joe hadn’t even experienced what I just experienced. I would have had to bite him for that. This was the best he’d ever felt because he was in rut and with an omega. Once again, I had not done as much for him as he had done for me. 

Joe rested his chin on my uninjured shoulder. “Thank you, Nicky.”

I rubbed my head against his, in attempt to reassure him with my scent. “There’s no need to thank me. It’s an _honor_.” 

Joe laughed. “Yeah?”

Though I had initially been teasing, I realized now that I could feel the warmth of him _still_ spilling inside of me, when before, all other sensations were so much more overwhelming, that I hadn’t noticed – and it felt so _right_. It felt like something my body had been missing. And being on his knot like this, providing him a means to relieve the pain and discomfort experienced during his rut, felt like something I was _privileged_ to be doing. I was the first person Joe had ever shared a rut with, and Joe could have chosen _any_ omega he wanted. As androgynous as I was, as uncertain as I was about bonding…I was far from an ideal omega. But he chose me anyway. 

“ _Yes_ ,” I said, quite seriously now. 

His arms tightened around me then, and his scent sweetened with affection. He started to purr against my back. 

“I love you,” he said. 

I blinked, worried I might tear up, and said, “I love you, too.” 

Finally, Joe helped me straighten out my legs so that I was sitting comfortably in his lap. He drew the canopy open and reached for the remote on the nightstand to switch on the TV sitting on his dresser. He held me while we found something to watch, and, as he predicted, his knot lasted much longer than normal. So long, that he fell asleep still inside me, and _still_ warmly spilling.

In the dark, I turned the TV down and waited patiently for it to stop. When it finally did, I stood carefully up and off of him. Then I walked over to the dresser to find a pair of briefs I didn’t mind – _soiling_ with his cum all night, and, unable to find any clean pair of my own, decided to grab some of his boxers in his underwear drawer. He would deal, what with it being his mess, I decided. 

But when I opened his underwear drawer and fumbled around in the dark for the familiar feel of a waistband on my fingers, I found a small velvet box instead. I froze, and then, with my heart hammering, pulled the case out and flipped it open. The silver band glistened in the dim light of the flickering TV. 

I spun around to face Joe, still sitting upright in bed, asleep for the first time since the early a.m, and purring. 

I stood there holding it for a long time.

**Author's Note:**

> If you're curious, my tumblr URL is kill-your-authors@tumblr.com.


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